Page:Bess the Gawkie (3).pdf/3

 Or twa, when we do meet again,

So ne'er think the a gawkie.

Ah, na! lass, that canna be,

Sic thoughts as these are far frae me,

Or ory that sweet face that see,

E'er to think thee a gawkie.

But, whisht! nae mair o' this we'll speak,

For yonder Jamie does us meet;

Instead of Meg, he kiss'd sae sweet,

I trow, he likes the gawkie.

O dear Bess, I hardly knew,

When I came by, your gown sae new;

I think you've got it wet wi‘ dew:

Quoth she, that's like a gawkie.

It's wet wi' dew, and 'twill get rain,

And I'll get gowns when it is gane;

Sae ye may gang the gate ye came,

And tell it to your dawtie.

The gilt appea‘d in Jamie's cheek;

He cried, O cruel maid, but sweet,

If I should gang another gate,

I ne‘er should see my dawtie.

The lasses fast frae him they flew,

And left poor Jamie sair to rue,

That ever Maggie's face he knew,

Or e'er ca'd Bess a gawkie.

As they gaed o'er the muir they sang,

The hiils and dales with echo rang,

The hills and dales with echo rang,

“Gang o’er the muir to Maggie.